Nobody's perfect
by Lukewarm Tauntauns
Summary: Poe Dameron gets captured by the First Order. Captain Phasma interrogates him.


"Nobody's perfect". There were a million variations of this old Corellian saying in every language of the galaxy – Poe Dameron was saying it in Basic. He was an ace pilot revered by the entire resistance, but he had made a mistake that might well cost him his life.

"BB-8, can you restore any power to the dorsal fusion thrusters?" A hectic burst of beeping followed, but Poe could tell that the little droid wouldn't be able to do any good. Most of the back of Dameron's T-70 X-Wing was simply missing, ripped off by a laser burst from one of the pursuing TIE fighters. Poe couldn't even tell which one had hit him, there were simply too many … What was clear was that he was going down fast and that half of his starfighter was missing.

He tried an emergency call. "To any Resistance Forces, this is Black Leader, repeat, this is Black Leader. I'm going down over Carrivar, somewhere over the northern continent. Repeat …" There was only static in response. Unsurprising, seeing as the planet below was a First Order Fortress World: There would be tens of thousands of jamming systems in place.

"BB-8, we need some shields before we hit lower atmosphere. Emergency power. Stat!" More excited beeping. The little droid was doing its best and it might actually manage to turn on the deflectors for a few seconds – Poe could see no physical damage to the starboard shield generators. A few seconds passed while the flaming wreck Poe was sitting in kept plummeting towards the surface, then a small orange light flickered on, just seconds before a surface turbolaser turret hit the fighter and Poe blacked out.

He was only unconscious for a few seconds, but when he came to, his fighter had almost reached the planet's surface. Flicking half the controls in the cockpit, Poe managed to get the fighter in a partial glide – which was still mostly a fall. The repulsor lifts were unresponsive. There wasn't going to be a better moment than this. "Sorry, beauty". Poe gently touched his X-Wing's control panel, then hit eject and was shot out of the burning wreck together with a "wheeeee"-ing BB-8.

"Confirmed, Captain". The Stormtrooper saluted. "The prisoner is Poe Dameron, the best …"

"I know who he is." Captain Phasma remembered too well how one of her own men had helped Dameron escape last time, dishonouring her in the eyes of her superiors. How Dameron had destroyed Starkiller base, nearly killing her. He was not getting away this time.

"I want four guards outside his cell and nobody except for me is cleared to enter. I will interrogate him myself." Kylo Ren was still with Supreme Leader Snoke, of course, presumably learning how to deal with his anger issues. However, Phasma was confident she could get Dameron to talk. What was a single fighter pilot doing in a First Order fortress system?

There were shapes dancing in front of Poe's eyes and some horrible shrieking sound right in his brain. He tried to look up and noticed he couldn't move his head. Semi-conscious, he muttered "Finn…?" and then passed out again.

"Hey! Wake up!"

Poe struggled to open his eyes, managed to do it and looked straight at his reflection. "Wow", he slurred. "I look like a Trandoshan's bare ass." After he had blinked a few times and regained some more consciousness, he noticed that the mirror in front of him was actually the breastplate of a set of polished chromium armour. Then a hand in an armoured glove grasped his hair and yanked his head back. "I have questions for you."

Poe was alert now and started to remember what had happened. He had gone done over … was it Starkiller Base? No, that had been months ago, before … Ah. He was on Carrivar, First Order Fortress World in the Unknown Regions. He was supposed to gather intelligence before a large scale attack of Republic forces in retaliation for the Hosnian system, but he had left hyperspace too close to the planet.

"Captain …" He had to close his eyes for a second, apparently he was bleeding from a small cut over his eye. "Captain Phasma, was it? I think we met …"

"Talk only when talked to." Phasma went in closer, knowing that all he could see was a soulless visor while she could look at him close-up, just to show who was in charge. It felt good to be in charge. "Or I'll get the interrogation droid. If you talk, maybe we can spare you a second encounter with a Knight of Ren." She could hardly tell him Kylo Ren was alive, but it didn't matter; he reacted to that threat, just a second before his face was calm again, but Phasma saw it. She felt truly powerful – commanding Stormtroopers was one thing, but they were basically drones. She had a feeling she would enjoy breaking Dameron's resistance – no pun intended.

Poe, on the other hand, had a vested interest to continue the conversation. If he could somehow talk her into letting her guard down, he might be able to escape before the First Order's "enhanced interrogation" methods left him too weak for that. So, he decided to bait her. "You know I won't talk …" Lingering pause, as if unsure. "I swore an oath …" Explaining his determination, as if he had to convince himself.

Phasma was not sure if he was being genuine. But then, if given an opening, she'd take it. It was not like she was risking anything.

She came even closer, towering over him. "You'll talk in the end, and if not, someone … gifted will pull the information right from your brain. You know how unpleasant that is. It's very easy to avoid, you know … He had to strain his neck to look up to her, and … was he blushing?

Poe Dameron wondered why his face was so hot. He hated being in this situation. So … why did he love it?

A small voice in Captain Phasma's head told her that her idea was reckless and irrational, governed not by a plan, but by how much she loved feeling in control, feeling powerful. She ignored the voice. If this was … exciting the Resistance pilot, she could use that. Slowly, she took off her helmet.

Poe was startled. He knew from Finn's stories how unusual this was – Phasma taking off her helmet in front of anyone. Her hair was blond and her face was really beautiful … Why was he staring like this? She had to notice! His face felt even warmer, and, at this point, not only his face. This was messing up his whole plan. He should not be turned on by being restrained by … by being helpless against a strong woman like her – no! If he allowed these thoughts, this would all go bad really fast. He had to think of the resistance, first and foremost!

Poe was too concerned with his own hormonal situation to notice that Phasma was staring at his lips, too.

She leaned in close to his ear and ran a finger down his chest. "So, Mister Dameron … Are you going to be good or do I have to be mean to you?"

Poe felt like his face was burning hot. He had been … involved with men and with women of a range of species, but this woman was something special. Or it was the commanding presence … Sure, he was still planning to make her free him and then escape, but … maybe that could wait. It was not the first thought in his head right now.

She walked in a circle around the interrogation chair, running a single finger along his neck. "Go ahead, Mister Dameron. Struggle. There's no escape from me and I can do anything I like with you." She wondered, briefly, how she knew so easily what to say. She seemed to have a knack for this.

"Well …" He strained against the shackles, pushing his hips forward. "It's not like I could do anything about anything you do to me." His lips were dry. "So I suppose you could do anything you like …"

Her cheeks were flushed. She was about to do something majorly stupid, but she'd never felt like this before. "Okay, I have to untie you. Don't get ideas …"

"Wouldn't it be better to just leave me tied up …?" He meant it, but cursed himself. What a stupid thing to say – his ultimate plan was still escape, right? Or was it?

"Yes, but that is not how you treat a … hm." Captain Phasma was tempted to just have her way with him while he was shackled to the interrogation chair, but he was in a completely helpless position. She was the one who gave the annual seminars on sexual assault in the military, after all. It wouldn't be right. "Besides …" She brushed up against him when she unshackled his hands … "It will be easy enough for me to hold you down anyway. Only if you want to get away of c-" She didn't get to finish the sentence when Poe took her head between his hands and kissed her.

She grabbed him in an effortless motion, threw him on the floor and straddled him. He ran his hands along her breastplate, found the magnetic seal and unlocked it as her hands unclasped the front of his flight suit. Phasma was really glad she had given strict orders that nobody except for her was to be admitted to the cell; in fact, she was taking a somewhat calculated risk. Even if a Resistance prisoner was to talk, who was going believe an outlandish story like "Captain Phasma released me and fucked me on the floor of the interrogation room"?

Then her worries disappeared when he slipped his hands under her thermal underwear. She grasped his chin in her hand, pulled his face to hers and bit his lower lip, hard.

When Finn opened the door, he knew that Phasma would be inside and was prepared to shout "Get off of him", but only managed "Get off …!" right as Phasma did exactly that and, seconds later, Poe followed suit. Finn stared at them speechlessly for a few seconds, then a small earthquake shook the continent as the Republic Mon Calamari Dreadnoughts in orbit fired a salvo at the planet's main hangars.

Phasma shouted something along the lines of "traitor", but Finn really didn't care and pulled a naked Poe Dameron up from the floor instead while behind him, BB-8 let out a confused "Whooo". Finn was too bewildered to be angry, at least for now. "What the force? Poe, what was that – I thought we …?"

Poe put a hand on Finn's shoulder. "Sorry. Nobody's perfect, Finn."


End file.
